Washing Machine
by Ichimarugyrl24
Summary: Eiji finds a fun way to get pleasure. Eventually, he shows it to Oishi. Golden Pair.


_E__iji had never expected to find something so pleasurable in such an unconventional way. Really, it had started innocent enough. His mother used to sit him up there when he was younger, around five, he remembered, as she did his laundry. And the machine would rattle and shake with age, spurring fits of laughter from him as he struggled to hold on. He used to ask her to join him—after all, there was enough room for the two of them—but she always kindly declined, telling him she would later on when she did her own clothes._

_And she did, he found, when he concernedly went to check on her later on, during his nap time. But there was something odd about the way she did it in comparison to him. Her pajamas would hang off of her body at odd angles, her underwear would be thrown forgotten on the floor, her face would be red and sweaty, and odd noises would slip through her lips as if she was being hurt by the machine vibrating beneath her._

_It scared him a little, to think that their old washing machine, something that had once seemed so fun, was hurting the person most special to him. He hated seeing her suffer so, and he never wished for the same to happen to him. So, he stopped playing their little game, and advised his mother to do the same before something really bad happened._

_But that had been back when he was still a naive, young child. His mind had just assumed that the machine brought pain, and so he had avoided it with a great passion. When his parents told him he had to start doing his own laundry though, a few days after his twelfth birthday, he knew he had to suck it up, be the big boy he had become, and just face the infernal contraption, even if it happened to hurt him._

_He refused to touch it while it was running, the first few times. After it would start, he avoided it like a plague until it shut off again. But he had four siblings to live with, four siblings who were _extremely_ mean, and so he found himself pressed against it one night, screaming and crying that they let him go because he was scared, but they refused._

_The feeling though, he remembered the next morning in class, was far different from what he had expected. Nothing ached—apart from his back, from where his sister had sat on it—and if anything, it had been an almost... pleasant feeling, the vibrations, on his squirming, sensitive body. His hands had tingled, as had his tummy and chest, and there had been an odd sensation building in his lower body, one he had never quite felt before. But he soon found that he liked the feeling, that he wanted to experience it again. He only hoped that no harm would come to him when he did._

_And so, the next time he went to clean his clothes, he turned it on, waited for it to start moving, then placed his hands on its flat top. The feeling he got from it was more than satisfying. _

_The week after that, he pressed himself up against its side and waited for the spin cycle, the time when the machine really went out of control. When it finally started, every piece of his body was sent into pleasured convulsions. Whimpers and whines slipped through his lips in unintentional, uncontrolled spurts. Odd tingles wracked his lower abdomen, forcing his legs to wobble weakly until he fell back with a cry and wet his pants. After a few moments of recovering, he smiled. No wonder his mother loved the machine so much._

_Another three weeks went by and he finally decided to sit atop it, to get the full affect of everything it offered. But it was hardly a few seconds after starting that he had his legs squeezed together, hands frantically grabbing at its sides for dear life, until he arched back with a scream, wetting himself a second time._

_His fear of the machine was long gone by that time, and he found himself actually looking forward to using it again the following week... and every single week after that._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

**(Two Years Later)**

Saturday was his day for laundry. His mother and father had Sunday and Monday, his oldest brother had Tuesday, his sisters had Wednesday and Thursday, and his youngest brother had Friday. But he, being the youngest, got Saturday, the only unassigned day, to do his own.

Of course, doing laundry on Saturday meant that half of his weekend was spent in the basement, sitting on top of a shaking washing machine, imagining Oishi when they ought to be together instead. They were _dating_, for goodness sake, and yet, the only time they got to themselves came in the form of them locking up the clubhouse and walking home. And not even holding hands either, since Oishi was so stingy.

But he was actually kind of happy to have the washer at his service, because it did for him all of the things that Oishi refused to. He constantly orgasmed, and hard, at the hands of the machine, while Oishi was only capable of giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek, every once in a while, when they had a split second to be alone together.

Summer vacation though, was the perfect opportunity for him to have Oishi over with him, touching him, kissing him, holding him close. His parents were busy at work, his sisters were out shopping with their boyfriends, his brothers were in Osaka with their friends, and so he was all alone, waiting for Oishi to join him.

He could sneak in a little laundry beforehand though, right? Just in case.

But as he eagerly shoved his clothes into the machine, he heard the buzzer go off, alerting him that someone was at the door. Oishi: the boy who was always early (hopefully not in more ways than one). He bit his lip a bit restlessly as he hopped up the stairs to go fetch his boyfriend, but the thought was soon forgotten when he saw him standing on the front steps, dorky outfit and smile in place as usual. He jumped forward and hugged him without even thinking.

"Ohayo," Oishi chuckled, patting him on the back in return. He was usually really cautious about public displays of affection, but sometimes, Eiji was just too cute to resist, especially after a week-and-a-half apart.

"Mou, never leave me like that again," Eiji whined into his shoulder. "I missed you too much."

Oishi pulled them apart, gave him a quick peck on the lips, then led them into the house, closing and locking the door behind them. He then kicked his shoes off and moved back to the pouting redhead. "Gomen, kitten, but I had to go visit her. Vacation ends in a week, and she only has about that much longer before she..." he paused. "But you know it was an emergency, and that is the only time I will _ever_ leave you like that. So... forgive me, please?"

A small smile played on each of their lips, washing away all ill feelings, before they came together in a soft kiss. Their hands roamed over the thin clothes clinging to their bodies, their legs pushed and wound together, their hips thrust forward in impatience. At least, until Eiji remembered he still had a chore to finish.

"Nya, Syu, do you mind just waiting another minute? I have to get my laundry done today," he turned away towards the basement. "Come with me, ne?"

"Okay," Oishi nodded, before he moved to catch up. "And I can help you, if you want."

The two of them made their way down to the basement, fingers entwined to keep from losing each other in amongst the messes of forgotten toys, furniture, and clothes, until they finally came to the rusted machines the Kikumaru family called their washer and dryer. Eiji bent down to throw the rest of his whites in, and Oishi did the same a moment later, only he was laughing each time he picked up a pair of briefs, because Eiji would quickly snatch them away with an embarrassed flush.

But as he knelt there, Oishi beside him, a strange thought popped into his head. What if... no... No, he could _never_ ask him that... least of all, show him.

"Kitten..." Oishi asked suddenly, placing a warm hand on his forehead, "are you feeling all right? You look a little flushed."

Eiji opened his mouth to speak. He really only planned to say that he was fine, but what came out instead was, "Ne, have you ever ridden a washer before?"

Oishi gave him an odd look, and he rushed to cover his mouth with his hand. His mind was always letting him slip like that. "G-gomen, kitten, but I—"

"No, never mind," he mumbled back, digging his hands back into his pile of dirty clothes. He could only hope that the subject would be dropped from there... but he knew better than to believe that it actually would.

"Tell me... what you really mean, that is. I want to know," Oishi offered a reassuring smile, and touched at his shoulders, "please."

He shook his head in the negative—no _way_, was he going to tell—but his mouth was working again already, even as he mentally screamed not to say anything. "You know..." he whispered, and Oishi had to lean forward to better hear him, "have you ever... _ridden_ a washer before?"

"Ridden," Oishi looked confused. "As in...?"

He sighed, then pulled Oishi up with him as he climbed to his feet. "Let me just show you," he replied quietly, turning the machine dials until it rattled to life.

His fingers flexed delightedly against the metal surface, preparing him for the pleasure that was to come. Then he jumped up onto the top, and coaxed Oishi to do the same.

"T-this is what I m-mean..." he mewled, feeling his legs tighten together. "This is r-riding... a washing m-machine..."

He felt the vibrations flow through him, sending his whole body into convulsions of sweet delight, sweet pleasure. Then he began to moan, whine, whimper, cry out. His hand reached out and grasped onto Oishi, somewhat securing him in place as the heat rose all too quickly, all too familiarly, in his private place.

"This... feels good to you," murmured Oishi, finally realizing just what his boyfriend had meant by "riding a washer".

"Hai..." the redhead squeaked weakly. "Is it... g-good for you... t-too...?"

Oishi looked down to the small swell in his pants. "A little, I guess. Not as good as it is for you, though."

His free hand began to rub himself slowly. He had to admit that his boyfriend looked really hot tossing and turning in utter pleasure, even if it was a metal contraption causing such a feeling, and not him. "Wow, kitten," he breathed lowly, "you look so beautiful like that, with your body feeling good. I hope I can do that to you someday."

His words, he realized, seemed to have a great affect on his cute little "kitten", because his wonderful body arched back only a few seconds later, with screams of "coming, coming" slipping through his lips.

His small, blue shorts twitched a few times as he went spasming into his orgasm, and a stain formed very near the elastic band. "S-Syu... Syu..." he panted quietly. "I just—"

Oishi chuckled. "I know, kitten, I know. And it was pretty amazing. I never knew you were so sensitive."

"Because you never..." whined the redhead, climbing back onto the floor before he came again (the last time he had done it twice in a row, he almost passed out from sheer exertion), "make me feel like that... never touch me... watch me... or ask me about it..." he giggled. "Are you scared... of sex or something...?"

Oishi lightly shook his head. "No, but we _are_ underage. Unless you want to risk the chance of us getting caught and arrested, I suggest we just wait."

He suddenly realized that his hand was still on himself, rubbing, squeezing, teasing him towards his own end, while the machine continued to stimulate his lower extremities. He could feel the vibrations on his balls, his entrance, even on the place in between, and only mere seconds had to pass before his orgasm crashed down on him, forcing him onto the floor beside his equally spent boyfriend.

They lay panting together, side by side, until Oishi finally caught his breath and said, "That was better than I thought it would be, you know. How did you learn to do that? And how long have you been doing it?"

Eiji laughed, still slightly out of breath. "Later... tell you later..." he replied. "For now... I wanna do more laundry..."

Oishi could only gape dazedly as he watched the redhead jump back onto the rumbling washer, and moan loudly.

* * *

**A/N**: No actual penetration here,_ again. _Sorry about that. Anyways, just a weird little fic I came up with. And P.S. the "she" Oishi is talking about is his grandmother. He went to go visit her during most of his summer vacation. Oh, and I have a new thing for Oishi calling Eiji "kitten". It's just so cute. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
